Guelder: Of Winter and Roses
by r-iem
Summary: "It is a struggle, it is a pain. But at the end of it, it will be alright." He honestly did not believe that. Because he believes in reasons, because there is always a reason. Every cloud, every time it stops raining, has a silver lining – and so they say. Or was it just him trying a new hand at comfort? "We will find a way." Rated T for swear words. Sequel to Forsaken Qualms
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

><p>There he stood. He stood there at the door, taking in the surroundings of the rather spacious room. A sigh escaped thin lips at the sight revealed ahead. The door closed behind him as he entered. He neared the two figures in the centre of the room.<p>

Of tall and lanky, slightly malnourished, one figure was seated on a single chair. Placed near the rounded windowpane its setting painted a picture, a story, than ever conveying the poignant reality. _Forlorn. _Yet that little display tales hope. A hope that one day life, precious life, would return. Return and fill those dark orbs with familiar deep blue similar to that of bright skies of springtime.

Long blankets were laid over the soulless man's lap. It pooled onto the pristine floor like velvety curtains, but it gave warmth, as much warmth, needed. Lay on top of his lap was a small figure outlining the uneven surface. Wrapped in an extra set with the face hidden underneath, only black and golden trimmings peeked slightly. Pink hair sticking out was a great contrast however to the faded brown of the blankets.

Two to three long strides forward did Toshiro finally addressed. "Kuroyuri-sama," he called. Sympathy mixing in his voice did he caught it with a touch of firmness. "You are needed, sir."

Alas, the commander, Kuroyuri-sama, did not answer. Instead the child snuggled closer. Clearly not intending to leave the warmth of his beloved. He expected no less from deliberate self-pity. Perhaps it was out of spite. _He is not impressed with the attitude._

"We will shortly be breaching the border of Antwort airspace in two hours time."

Again, there was no response. Toshiro did not let on. Both stubborn individuals in the room know too well Kuroyuri was not asleep. If the ever the slight shift of shoulder blades was anything to go by.

"Ayanami-sama is about to devise the battle tactics," Toshiro informed for the third attempt. "Konatsu-san and Major Hyuuga have already gathered at Navigation. It would not start without everyone, _you_, present."

There was movement normally blind to the naked eye. It did not go unseen.

Toshiro inwardly sighed at the lack of cooperation. He neared the small coffee table then, purposely taking no notice of the seemingly sleeping child. "Please stop making people around you worry." He let the silence settle in despite feeling a menacing glare boring through layers of his back. With an unperturbed voice casually he continued.

"Comforting; the idea is not something that I am familiar of myself. Of that I am lacking thereof." He paused, considering his words. Words that would spite him. "I am not Haruse-san. A waste of time really, to be honest, provided its blatant uselessness. " He cleared some space, setting the untouched biscuits aside. Half lidded eyes gazed at nothing in particular. "But I do know hard times, how hard life throws at you in the face…"

A flash of distraught faces in despair and misery invaded the calm seas of his shore in the form of a raging storm. Swelling the smooth contours it breaches through inland, washing and eroding everything else into nothingness until it darkens the world around black. There is no salvation. No escape. There is no light seen at the end of this tunnel, this eternal tunnel of vacuity.

The bump of a flower vase gently kissing the table made short of the illusion.

Baby blues overtook soft greens as they follow the sways of snowdrops and pansies as the vase was placed atop. Toshiro stared at it, making use of the silence in pretence of ignorance to misinterpret his pause over an answer from Kuroyuri. He turned to face the other – earlier train of thought was not lost on him.

"It is a struggle, it is a pain. But at the end of it… it will be alright."

He honestly did not believe that. Because he believes in reasons, because there is always a reason. Every cloud, every time it stops raining, has a silver lining – and so they say. Or was it just him trying a new hand at comfort?

"I am certain Ayanami-sama plans on finding the means necessary that would help Haruse-san, anything to bring back his soul. I may be human and that I am weak, but I am no fool. I am a part of this too."

Kuroyuri was glancing up at him by then, blanket barely leaving his shoulder. The look he gave was doubtful. Toshiro could tell the pink haired was assessing him, wanting to believe the assurance; unsure whether to trust the sincerity in his words. It was, at least he consider, a start.

"We will find a way," Toshiro continues, cajoling the child warsfeil. "For now, attend the briefing, Kuroyuri-sama. Let us not make the others wait any longer."

For a moment, it looks as though his effort was all in vain. For Kuroyuri closed his good eye and went back to ignoring him. _Back to square one._ A petulant child – that is what the commander is as a whole. One that does not listen to reasons alone, one that lashes out at others, one that does not understand the implications they done.

Ah, the beauty of naïve youth.

Kuroyuri was not opening up to him. No need for a psychiatrist to point it out. Being the one who committed the past atrocity, it was understandable. Toshiro expected no less from a vengeful seeking juvenile that happens to have an addiction towards snacks and a love of eating. This further reinforces his initial inkling. Though, at the moment, the passion lost its fervour.

That is probably why he should weight up his options.

Considering a recompensing gift for the moody child might be adequate as an apology. He thought of chocolate, chocolate chip cookies to be exact, that Kuroyuri would come to appreciate. Perhaps throw in some caramelised syrup, as he would have it. Would that improve their bond? Or would it end up otherwise?

His deliberation broke as soon as he saw movement. Kuroyuri uncurl himself and look up at Haruse.

It had only been a few days, but the damage had been done. The teenager felt a stab in his heart. He watch Kuroyuri mutter words of promise, the soft murmur of "I'll be back", before reluctantly climbing down from the man's lap. Kuroyuri stood tall, chest huffed forward trying to make himself seem big and strong. He headed towards the door. Not once did he spare a look at the blond subordinate.

Toshiro trailed his eyes until Kuroyuri left the room. He settled on to look at Haruse. A silent gratitude was passed, somehow. Whether from the unmoving man or the wounded child, Toshiro did not know. The barest tug of lips pulled at Toshiro into giving a small smile. Perhaps he should put a little faith. If not in miracles, then on the Black Hawks. _Ayanami-sama._

Wordlessly, Toshiro followed after his unofficial charge.

* * *

><p>Not one word, not even a squeak or a cough, was exchanged between the two. The sounds of their faint breathing and the marching of boots only served as background. It was probably for the best.<p>

With Kuroyuri leading the way, he and Toshiro headed towards the navigation room. They were about to enter, the door automatically slides open, when someone sharply rushed in. Fast enough so a tall person could get inside before the petite lieutenant colonel.

Toshiro could tell, despite the lack of showing it, that Kuroyuri is aggravated. Whoever it was, that person is offhandedly rude. Likely to have no respect for others and often think of themselves superior. Although the awed sounds emanating from inside indicated them more as somewhat… childish, in nature. High pitched and easily excited judging from the tone of voice. Only did Toshiro belatedly realized, one that he was not too keen to hear so soon, it was Shuri.

He regretted ever stepping into this disaster.

The young Oak gushed with animated eyes and a full grin plastered when they entered the scene. Like a giddy child Shuri's darting eyes looked around at the wonder that is Ribidzile. It was supposed to be the military's prided ship. And here was a spoiled brat, loudly comparing and complaining the first class aircraft being smaller than his _Papa's ship._

"It's suitable~"

Bright shiny lights with twinkling stars practically sparkle behind him at the statement, ignorant of the overhanging mouths of disbelief and annoyance from those on board.

Toshiro followed after Kuroyuri and stood with the other Hawks. The blond cadet chanced a glance at Ayanami by the corner of his eye. Hidden behind a scroll of drawn maps and geographical locations of the enemy's terrain, the silver haired man's face was a puzzle to many mysteries. Apathetic expression focused upon thin paper. He could have sworn a twitch on that otherwise calm face.

"Speaking so frankly in front of Ayanami-sama…!" He heard Konatsu gasped, engaging with his superior, as they claim their position at the chief's side. "Certainly a rare and endangered species, Lt. Commander!"

"Already on the verge of extinction, Konatsu!" Hyuuga replied in agreement.

Suddenly Shuri twirl at full attention. With a salute and a dazzling smile, he introduces himself. "From today onward, I shall be Ayanami-sama's Begleiter. I am Shuri Oak!" However so, the Oak's fervent mood drastically fell when bright blues met familiar teals.

Whilst others were struck permanently with astonishment, unaware of the silent exchange, Toshiro was indifferent. That was when Hyuuga – unintended or not, Toshiro was inclined to believe the former – saved the beginnings of an awkward tension between them.

"Since when were you a begleiter?" questions Hyuuga, head curiously tilted to one side. No different as the other two Black Hawks. It was a fact unknown to them. Even to the well-informed chief himself. Judging from the lack of acknowledgement. "The position's already been taken."

Shuri recovered exponentially. _Good old pompous Oak. _"What do you mean? Because papa said to be Ayanami-sama's begleiter, of course!"

Whereas the Black Hawks were left to absorb the information, react upon it on their own way, Toshiro stares at Shuri. Turns out those two sycophants were not jesting when they said Shuri is to be the chief of staff's begleiter. Be that as it may, the idiot chose this inconvenient time of conflict to make his proclamation?

As far as Toshiro could tell the chief currently has no begleiter the whole while he joined the crew. Perhaps Hyuuga meant to say it to be considerate…?

Ayanami was silent. He had not said a word on the unexpected whirlwind of trouble knocking at their door. Toshiro wondered if the man is in a state of shock. It was highly unlikely; Warsfeil are incapable of it. Of course, showing weakness equates to the lack of self-restraint. But that would make him human. It meant nothing however in this circumstances. In fact, it was unnecessary.

Lowering the scroll in exchange of reading documented reports did Ayanami finally take a good look at his _supposed _'Begleiter.' It did not take him long, only a quick glimpse as apathetic purples returned to scan the remaining papers. Not even a nanosecond was spared.

"_Who _is the one who _brought _garbage_ on board?"_

All eyes turned to look at the Chief of Staff. It does not need the least unintelligent of individuals on the airship to find out that the fearful man is irked. Demandingly irked.

With just one glance Ayanami could tell Shuri Oak is but a nuisance. The ignorant fool was oblivious of the challenges they are about to face. He doubted the boy would make himself useful. He would not last long, especially if left alone without someone reliable to take care of him.

"Garbage?" echoed Shuri meant to please, none the wiser. "Where is the garbage?!" He looked around demanding for the non-existent culprit to come to light. Little did the Oak know it was he. "Who is it? Who brought garbage on board?!"

Toshiro felt like he should just curl up into a barrel and be thrown off board from Ribidzile. _One way or another._ As long as he was wiped out of existence from the Black Hawks' mere presence than afford to give them face.

At the same time he felt that, as both a friend and a dignified young man, he should stop Shuri from embarrassing himself further. It was a pathetic sight to behold. It was unbearable. The Oak was making a bigger fool he could possibly be out of himself than simply being the greatest idiot son of Wakaba Oak. He was making a damn scene.

However, the threat that is the silver haired man's wrath has yet to be answered. It held the promise of pain.

Though the quandary he was in seemed trivial the moment Hyuuga raises his hand. For the man took a thorough beating. Konatsu and Kuroyuri looked away, leaving Toshiro to witness the act of violence. One that startlingly involves a coiled whip out of nowhere.

"How long until we arrive at Antwort?" A sharp crack in the air followed after the inquiry – _the demand_ – unmindful of the floored subordinate.

The chief was answered with a terrified "L-less than an hour, sir!" from one of the petrified crew members. What fate befalls Hyuuga was forced to ignore despite his whines and the unpleasant sounds of grating. If you want to avoid the same punishment, then it would be wise to stop staring. And yet, Toshiro, albeit the danger he deliberately puts himself at risk, stared at the two men in disbelief and apprehension.

To think that Ayanami-sama… To discover that the leader of the Black Hawks whips – _actually whips_ – his subordinates…! Is that not considered an abuse in power?

Looking at it though the major was rightfully at fault. Having brought Shuri aboard, failing to inform his being here beforehand… The carefree man should have declined the admiral's request. He was helpless in this it seems.

At least, Toshiro considers the bright side of it, Hyuuga is the one at the end of that wire. That unforgiving, cruel and cool coiled wire. He was doing them a big favour.

Toshiro inadvertently met eyes with Ayanami. A touch of something dark – laced with impatience, fury perhaps; or is it a mixture of both? He is unsure – was strange in those deep calculating eyes. Different than the glint the man had once upon a time. Different than the eerie flash of red at the rims of those violet irises. It caught the other's attention. Against his better judgment, Toshiro shivered under the duress. Quickly he looked away.

Shuri interrupted. To which Toshiro was thankful for. "Say, say. What is _Ant-vort_?"

The Oak blinked repeatedly, turning to both Konatsu and Kuroyuri. He seemed unperturbed. Rather, he was too naïve to even be perturbed.

Pleasantly courteous without meaning to, although his annoyance was outrightly apparent, Konatsu answered him. "Antwort is the last allied nation of the former Raggs Kingdom," he said. "A snow and ice-covered, strongly fortified country."

* * *

><p>Conflict, a lack of better word, between the leading forces of Barsburg and the last allied nation of the former Raggs Kingdom continued to persist for many years now. Sparked by the fear, their failure to retrieve the stone most of all, and the possibility that the lost Eye of Mikhail had been taken to its neighbouring ally, the empire waged war against Antwort.<p>

Forces of Antwort had held on its own successfully throughout the large-scale conquest; mere fancy wording for forced invasion really.

Thousand soldiers sent and tenfold the casualty came back. Neither side would admit defeat; no winner from either side would come out victorious. Chances of them thwarting one another were unwarranted. They but continue to defend. Attack and defend again. Pushing forward yet pushed back untoward nothing. It was a never ending war.

But all that ends today.

Smooth sailing, Antwort's mountainous terrain finally came into view. A winter garden – that is what the land of Antwort truly is. Neither was it meant a praise nor reverence. For not once did those flakes of crystallized ice ever stop showering, ad infinitum spewed from the vast sky like drizzling rain. The earth's soil practically blanketed with that equally pristine, cold essence. Colour of true soil may well be forgotten, lost to a greater extent. And eventually cease to exist.

Toshiro watched frantic crews busying their selves in preparation for battle at the sidelines. The blond had no clue on what there is to do, what is needed from him, what role he is supposed to undertake in this ship. Instead, he had made himself appear useless.

He turned his gaze away and looked outside. It cost him unwanted attention. Toshiro could feel the weight of it.

What great luck it is.

Shuri's hopeful eyes seek his, none too patient. Hesitant at first, braver the second, as the Oak tried to draw out the strength to face his friend. Toshiro entertained him but limited to no more than let their gaze met. It seemed to upset him when he paid no further heed for Shuri gave an almost petulant look of outrage. He noticed, of course. The blond left the delicate company of the Black Hawks with a bristled Shuri following behind.

"_Toshiro_," Shuri Oak began once they were afar, tone rather demanding. No need for niceties between them two it seems. "You're not supposed to be here."

He opts to stare at the open space to save the trouble. And so he let Shuri ranted on as he pleases, catching small titbits of scepticism of his being here. Hard to believe a mere foot soldier joined the ranks of the Black Hawks. Again, Shuri was being unreasonable. It was an insult.

Through the sturdy glass wall between him and the outside world, Toshiro could feel the harsh wind currents slamming onto the clear windows. It snubbed the other's tirade. He focused on hearing the soft banging then, the ever slightly, next to none existent quiver. Or perhaps it was his body unconsciously swaying. His concentration broke the moment Ribidzile shook at the brunt of some burst.

Apparently the Black Hawks went over the tactic rather quick.

There was a blinding light with streaks of black and red beyond glass walls. It died down and smoke rose up from below. What was prided as the strongest shield in Barsburg – a large, anti-battleship shield that encloses the entire country of Antwort said to be able to withstand the fire power of a fleet of thirty Ribidzile ships – was easily dismantled in an instant. It left their forces vulnerable to open fire. In panic they fired their canons.

"Careful," was the little warning Toshiro managed out before a shaken Shuri clumsily loses his footing. With unceremonious grace he tumbles on the floor, ass high in the air.

The pale blond shook his head. He refrains himself from sighing in indignation. Shuri should have known better really: The ships were surrounded by a zaiphon shield. It was hardly damaging. The attack, needless to say, did not go through.

"You're in perfect form today, Aya-tan!"

Said man remains quiet as the area mapped onto the luminous grid set into the floor dimmed. Without waiting for it to fade until it was left blank, he stepped away from the screen. Ayanami turned to the two lowers then.

"You. You said you're Shuri?" the chief said, piercing eyes looking down at a half-dazed Oak. It held onto teals for but a brief flash, betraying none, as he said; "It's appropriate for my begleiter to act on the front line."

It took a moment for Shuri, _and Toshiro,_ to register the assertion.

Suddenly, with an incoherent reply and a small squeak close to a whimper, Shuri was uplifted from the cool tiles. Apparently someone had slid open the door. Within seconds they were exposed to the biting cold air. The sharp hiss made thin hairs rise.

From where he stood Toshiro could hear his Oak friend struggling to free himself. Hanging precariously by one man, it was not the best of idea to wiggle free. Even if it means he was going to fall either way. Hyuuga then, full of himself in his upbeat, releases his hold onto Shuri's collar. He was dropped – _thrown, _so to speak– overboard. Hyuuga was thoughtful enough to throw in a winter jacket along with the falling 'begleiter'. His screams were muffled.

Toshiro counted for two heartbeats before finally voicing out, "Was that necessary?"

Hyuuga is a simple man. A simple but an unpredictable man, Toshiro amended. Borderline erratic in all probability. It would be foolish not to be wary of this seemingly harmless shades wearer. Frankly, if he were to be manhandled, Toshiro would prefer hopping down willingly into the waiting mouths of enemy sharks than caught unprepared in the rush of adrenaline-

And then he saw it.

That confused look, that tilt of the head; that clueless blink…

Toshiro had forgotten one vital thing. One that should made him start second guessing. One that should made him tremble like a bloody baby. One that should scared anyone, running away with their tails between their legs, off witlessly.

Warsfeil could not – _and never would_ – understand the consequences the fall, to which they could survive perfectly unscathed, had upon a mortal, untrained human. They might not even take it into consideration.

…At least, not with Hyuuga anyway.

"Well. Someone has to," was said as though it makes sense. As though it _is_ common sense. "It's easier that way. Oh, and quick!" He grins. "Don't worry," the man then said, waving a dismissive hand. "He'll be fine, I bet. Won't it?"

Toshiro followed Hyuuga's gaze. It land on Konatsu. And the begleiter, as his eyes revealed to him, was frowning. Looks like he is not too happy about it.

"Why do you have to put us in trouble?!" Konatsu was close to exasperation in his ire. He forced himself to exhibit self-control. "Fine." A tired sigh escape Konatsu. Toshiro has to commend his perseverance. "Either I'm doing this or it'll be both our heads."

"Good luck out there Konatsu!" cried a waving Hyuuga as his begleiter strode onwards the merciless current. And Konatsu, not bothering to even acknowledge it, leaps from Ribidzile into the open.

Toshiro blinked once, then twice. He stared where Konatsu had once stood seconds ago. Unbelievable, his brain supplied. Are the people here mad? The least they could do was bring a parachute along. Thickly snow covered surface is not always soft than what is often depicted. It did not matter, apparently.

"You're going too?"

Toshiro glanced down and saw Kuroyuri. The commander, silent as a mouse, was standing beside him. Their gaze held still. _'Well,'_ he found himself musing on their current situation, '_this is a surprise_.' The action was clearly not the kind of behavior anticipated by particularly him. Not necessarily unwelcome either.

Curiosity stirred within than the alarm ringing in the taller boy's head. Is Kuroyuri-sama beginning to accept him?

He searches for the fault in the other's intention – there was a catch to it, there must be! – but, alas, found none. The lad was trying too hard at this, Toshiro realized. Perhaps he is missing the bigger picture here. Because that innocent curiosity, no matter how trifling, how trivial and how insignificant it is, was a sign of vulnerability.

'_Oh, Kuroyuri-sama. You are such a child indeed.'_

The snow was beginning to fall harder, the flakes glittering in the sparse sunlight. With the wind picking up speed, the temperature had nearly fallen below zero degrees. It would be nice, almost pleasant, to feel the cold seeping through wonted skin and bones one more time. Like the old days, like he used to. Perhaps. It had been forever.

"…I suppose," Toshiro meekly answered. It is, after all, a simple enquiry. "I do not trust Shuri-kun to be alone by himself quite yet."

He made the first move following after Shuri and Konatsu to their share of action. Before he could even take a step forward, before the air could properly leave his lungs, Toshiro was pulled back at the collar. Taken by surprise he is. The tug slightly chokes him but not as much as to made him slip and fall. The blond glared at the person behind the jolt. Toshiro openly scowls when he saw Hyuuga.

"Now, now don't be hasty!" Toshiro wished he could wipe off the grin on that blasted man's face. "Konatsu's more than capable in watching over your little friend. Besides," Hyuuga lets go of Toshiro then, "someone has to keep an eye out for our dear Kuro-tan here!"

The man should not have said that.

Kuroyuri narrowed his only eye dangerously. Both at the ridiculous calling and the portrayal of some weak child. He sure as hell isn't someone's damn possession. "_What _did you _say_?" he challenges. "Say it again, I _dare_ you. _Say it again_."

Hyuuga was unperturbed. "Aww… Don't be like that Kuro-tan~ Shiro-chan here's gonna take good care of you!"

Suddenly Toshiro, often got dragged and pulled in the middle of it all, found the spotlight shine itself upon him.

The blond stood there, dumbly and numbly. He alternated between Kuroyuri and Hyuuga. They were staring in attention, Toshiro could basically see the tension bleeding out from their gazes, albeit their differences. Unsaid pressure reigned heavily over him.

"I do not mind." It is as honest a confession as Toshiro would be willing to admit. _Trust and respect is what we do this for_. "If Kuroyuri-sama so wishes. I do not wish to impose. If I ever do become a burden to the commander, I have no excuse but to blame my incompetence."

That earned him a pleased grin from Hyuuga. Kuroyuri however went agape. It eases for no more than a fleeting second before forming into a straight line, thin-lipped.

"And there you have it!" asserts Hyuuga, quite smug. "You heard the boy, Kuro-tan. Play nice." He nudges Kuroyuri encouragingly like a brother would to his younger towards Toshiro. The major was rewarded with a kick at the shinbones, despite the simple gesture, and a pinch of insult to his questionable intellect for a grown man.

One officer working behind rows of terminals calls for everyone's attention. "We are in close proximity with Antwort's Royal Palace. Ayanami-sama!" He alternated between looking at the screen and facing their leader. "Target Plaza is on sight. Nearby enemy foot soldiers are scattered, readying weapons to attack. Should we engage?"

The chief was seated for the most part with closed eyes. Vivid amethysts were revealed when it did not. "Don't bother. Proceed on," Ayanami ordered with a cool grace. He sets his gaze onto his subordinates then. The verbal and physical lashing, if their actions were to be called that, terminated at once. While accusing eyes burns on Hyuuga, he said to Kuroyuri; "Take the boy with you."

Kuroyuri opened his mouth to protest, but Ayanami's tone left no room for discussion. He held it back, reluctantly nodding his affirmation; much to Hyuuga's delight.

"Airspeed, stabilized; angle of descent, good – all clear! Crossing Antwort's Royal palace's threshold in sixty seconds…"

Aware of his surroundings Toshiro noticed that he was being stared at. Knew it was Kuroyuri's doing, having experiencing it a number of times now. He caught him looking though the pinket did not avert eye contact. Toshiro wondered what Kuroyuri was thinking about; the commander had an unreadable expression on. He dares not pry.

The lower assent his consent one more time through a nod. "Let us make haste," Toshiro said. "We have a war to win, after all."

"Don't push your luck, Toshiro," the commander tried a condescending tone, warning. But he fails to bite back the smile lighting up his face. And Toshiro would not have it any other way.

* * *

><p>Ayanami's eyes were on the latest reports he received when Hyuuga spoke. "He's a good boy. Don't you think so, too?" He did not need to look up to see the other watching Kuroyuri and Toshiro (his subordinate's growing interest on the blond was barely a hint of subtlety) until they were out of sight. "Hope he won't be scarred for his first time. Now that'll be a problem!"<p>

The silver haired gave one critical look. Hyuuga paid not much mind. His lost for understanding naught he offer.

"There is no gain without pain," Ayanami drawled as the papers were lowered. "If he cannot come to terms with our line of work," he crossed one leg over another in a regal manner, "I don't see any reason why we should let him stay. _Children_ are not meant for the battlefield."

There was an intake of air. "Oh my… How very cold of you, Aya!"

But then Hyuuga chuckled, a light smile playing on thin lips after. His eyes held mischief. "We'll just see. Won't we?" He gave Ayanami a knowing look, to which the later did not return. Not that he was expecting him to. "Anyways, I'm going on ahead. Wait for me?"

And Hyuuga jumped off board before Ribidzile was successive in its landing.

* * *

><p>One airship after another made each clear descend on land after the Black Hawks' little stunt. Near four hundred Barsburg militias dismounts the ships with full force at Ayanami's command, leaving only their pilots and technicians and medic teams stay put. Half of the platoons stormed the Plaza while the rest of the squadron breaks through the Royal Palace's fort.<p>

The chief rose from his throne and stepped outside unescorted. Most of the enemy guards were already taken care of, neutralized by his men. Even as we speak. They are too far gone in the deep to withdraw from attacking Antwort. Orders no longer compel him. He ripped the papers in his hand into small bits – really, whenever did he agreed on abiding by their rules – and let the wind do its work. Like colourless confetti. They amalgamate perfectly with snow.

His crossing was a short one.

Bodies, dead and bloodied; mutilated, disfigured, maimed, hacked – you name it – in the worst possible way. There were streams of blood, its warmth easily gone cold and dry. No empathy, no pity: He cared not an iota for fragile creatures. Their fault for being weak. Their mistake for getting involved. Pandora's Box is the whole reason they are here. Nothing will stand in his way. Towards that one thing he desire most.

Zaiphon ever encircling his hand Ayanami wrecked havoc and blew open many doors to smithereens. That is, until he finally found what he came for.

"As I thought, it's here." Ayanami stepped into the room. There was no doubt in his mind, as the dust petered out. It cemented everything. "Searching all of the allied nations thoroughly was worthwhile. I should have realized when you left the Raggs Alliance, King Antwort."

He stood face to face with none other than the King of Antwort himself. Between surprised and antagonistic and fearful, pushed like a cornered rat; the man was, quite frankly, furious.

"You were the one who stole Pandora's Box from the Kingdom of Raggs." It was not a question. It was a statement. A testament – a revelation – to the truth that tends to be left omitted until it was way too late in the game. "As you can see," he came close, the other backing away only to ineffectually protect the black coffin-like box behind glass casing, "it took considerable skill to get here. Quite the hassle."

"Y-you _Barsburg dog_…!"

Ayanami was not impressed. To witness the old king has reduced to such pathetic state, resorting to a play of insults towards the countryman and his country, was distasteful. What little respect Ayanami had for the king is slowly sinking.

"It's not that I don't understand your feelings," the military man admitted. "The content of Pandora's Box is the God-created Verloren. Who would refuse the opportunity to obtain the world's knowledge?"

But King Antwort thought differently.

"You won't open this box!" the Antwort King bite out vehemently. He was shaking with nothing but rage. Rage, rage and more rage. With anger comes rudeness, and with rudeness comes verbal offense. But he wasted his breath on nothing. Its receiving end was hardly affected at all. "To open it you need the Eye of Mikhail that which the Barsburg Empire has searched for ten years! To think a _low-born_ warsfeil like you could-"

Blood, bold red, splattered like an explosion on canvas painted the bleak room with ephemeral life before it lost its bright afterglow. The man-king should have lived for a few seconds, possibly for a few spare minutes, if he had had watched his mouth. A slip of the tongue it may be, doubted it was anything but, but Ayanami was unforgiving.

With a flick of the wrist the show case shattered, Pandora's Box dropping with a thud. Verloren's vessel stepped forward. After years of searching, at last he will regain his immortal body. The Eye of Mikhail in hand, Ayanami unbound Pandora's Box only to discover a single rose laid inside; not the grand skeletons that which of the death god's.

Ayanami's face was vacant, void of emotion, when he picked the flower. He should have been outraged, livid. But oddly, he was not so much as angry as he ought to. What was the word? ...Intrigued?

Ah, yes. He was… _intrigued._

Ayanami felt the remnants of old magic, an influence. An old seal of some kind was left behind from the rose. Ayanami uses his power on it decidedly then, and it reveals to him a form, hooded and skeletal, and a young boy not more than five years of age.

An uncharacteristic, maniacal smile stretches across the calm man's face. _'Interesting.' _

The rose was crushed in his grasp. It was a cheap trick, substandard illusion, as it reverts into its original form of fleeting smoke and mist. As is that Seven Ghost protecting the boy no doubt Teito Klein; that set of emeralds was a dead giveaway.

It was a challenge. A mighty good challenge it is. Just to spite him; just to provoke him. If those death gods are going to interfere, let them. There is no harm paying back the favour in full is there?

* * *

><p><strong>This is the first of the many soon to be chapters of G: OWR. It is rather short, give or take, than what I'm used to in Forsaken Qualms. <strong>

**Updates depends. It will be slow at most, fast depends on the demands (or when I feel up to it).**

**Did I mention I need a beta? Anyone interested in kicking my ass and pick up the pace, feel free to sign up**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: **"You're weird," the child said. Kuroyuri took in the image of the other blinking at him dumbstruck, unsure whether to be amazed or affronted. Before Toshiro could decide which, the commander stood. "I like it."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

* * *

><p>Snow… Merciful snow, beautiful snow, understanding snow.<p>

They fell like endless precipitation that it is. Never-ever-change. Ever enveloping everything in its wake, to hide, to vanish and engulf everything into a world of white. Of pure, clinical, white.

Snow is many things. Rejecting its beauty is like rejecting the sweetest of vintage wines. For the profundity, its simplistic intricacy, cannot be compared by anything in this world.

And so, it continues. To pour and fall, to fall and pour again; to be adored, and to be welcomed.

Some does not share such impression, however.

Kuroyuri hugged his knees tight to his chest. He felt numb. Sensations of hot and cold had _nothing _on him. All feelings left him when he lost him. It wasn't completely gone. It was just… just wasn't there, anymore. Leaving only a shell of an abandoned child, of emptiness and that ever dominant solitude. He lifted his head, staring nought ahead at the horizon.

_'It's cold without Haruse…'_

His mood dampens at the morose thought, the reality he cannot seem to grasp. Without Haruse – his anchor, his shield, his protector; his begleiter, his dear, _his Haruse_ – everything is dull. A world without Haruse is cold. Cold, grey and dull. A sigh left his lungs as a wisp of his young life slithers away. He should better be off dead than to continue on living like this-

"Kuroyuri-sama."

Kuroyuri with bated breath, a hitch of breath, looks down when he heard his name being called only to have his anticipation blown by the wind.

Oh, how he wishes for Haruse to be here. For Haruse to call his name, to hear his voice, revel in his adoration knowing that he cares for the other. Not… Toshiro. No. Kuroyuri was unenthused to see plain ol' Toshiro. He missed Haruse so. He needed him, so painfully very much. But Kuroyuri knew better than to delude himself.

The blond lower was dusted with earthen soil, a tad of flake-patterned snow caught in his already pallid hair. His face has a weary look, drained and exhausted. Despite his bitter state Toshiro held himself quite well. Calm and in control – he was in his element, Kuroyuri absently supplied.

That revelation was supposed to unnerve him, screams suspicions. But having been proven wrong every single turn he learn to look right through each accusation. That does not mean he should like it still. It settled not within him.

Kuroyuri watched Toshiro stood from his squatted position. "We should return to the ship." He stepped away from his work, muttering some words under his breath, perhaps a prayer or some foreign language, before returning his attention to Kuroyuri. "It would be best before you catch a cold if we linger-"

"Tell me, Toshiro."

Kuroyuri cut him short. He centred all his attention at the other. Kuroyuri appreciated that Toshiro held his gaze with his although his eyes fought hard not to stray over the carnage they – _he_ – had left.

"Do you feel sorry for them?" Toshiro inclined his head in response, waiting for Kuroyuri to elaborate. The latter did not grant him the satisfaction, instead, directly, added, "Do you think we're monsters?"

The blond was visibly in discomfort regarding his choice of a small talk. There was the wide of the eyes, briefly, and then normalcy. That was it. It did not give him away any besides, uninterestingly so; his expression yields nothing more than staying neutral. But unfortunately, that was inconsequential.

Kuroyuri wanted to see, truly see, Toshiro behind that gutsy yet overly bearably polite, silver-tongued, narcissistic persona of a jerk. Kuroyuri wanted to trust Toshiro just as Haruse did in him. Wherein do their boundary lie, where does it start and where does it end. But to be able to, Kuroyuri knew he could not. For trust is intimate, personal.

Why trust a human, a race he finds little value in their very existence, and even bother to share that bond.

Yet there is that multitude of possibilities that he could be… _different._ He may perhaps be, a novelty in more ways than one. That entirely depends on his say in his answer.

"Why do you say such?"

The commander warsfeil cocked an eyebrow at that. Almost resembling incredulity. _Almost._

"Because we are, aren't we?"

Toshiro had the front row seat to witness everything. From their nature to the hate and to the inky darkness held within. It was obvious who they are, apparent what they are. For how long must he be blind and force himself to hold back. Surely not because of their standing.

"Can animals fight their instincts, sir? Do we call these feral creature monsters when they kill to ensure survival?" Toshiro questioned. "What about us, as a person? Can we fight our innate nature? Can we fight our urges? I think not, regardless how strongly we resist or how fervently we try to deny it."

Small lips thinned into a frown. Kuroyuri was not a fan to long answers. It is lengthy; it is banal – mundane speeches that he would rather tune out than hear. A boring story to listen to and fall asleep. But Toshiro answered with justifications. He would make an exception, only because he wants his honest opinion.

"A man does what he must – in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures." His voice was a drawl and bland, the words as though have been said time and time again. Empty, and yet more than what is actually confer. "An enemy is an enemy that, no matter how one would look upon it, must be disposed of. It is not a cruelty that one often views. It is a necessary evil.

"And this war where blind obedience, unthinking stupidity, brutish callousness, wanton destruction, and irresponsible murder comes about. What makes it a difference if hundreds, if not, thousands, fall? Graves have already been dug, fates are sealed. The moment one enters a battlefield is where one lays its rest. By far, it is a mercy."

Fallen snow began to lessen though the wind was no help to warm the decreasing temperature. Inch by creeping inch new layers builds and deepens without anyone to notice it, filling in the gaps and submerging the uneven ground to a raised height. By the time they left it would revert back to the way it was before. Unassuming and undisturbed.

"I do not believe it erroneous by law," Toshiro continued. "As soldiers, we follow our commandment. As you follow yours, sir, and I follow mine. 'Monster', on the other hand, while I digress to its characterization, is a word people use for something they cannot understand."

Kuroyuri looked at Toshiro oddly. The latter offered a wry smile in return.

"People look upon an individual their actions, their intentions, and then make judgments supposedly based on the good and the bad of black and white, acceptable social norms, where it is, in fact, we, that should mattered in opinions."

Toshiro gestured at himself, at his whole body, with one hand. "I do not understand my very self," he profess. "Am I a monster? Must I understand so I would not become one? No." He gave the answer to his own question. "To understand one self, one must empathize with his or her surroundings and the people associated with it. At least, that is what I believe."

From a mountainous pile of snow covered dead bodies to the makeshift unnamed burials of fallen enemy soldiers, the prospect was not as ominous as it was before. A distinct giggle, soft, resounds through the clement whiteout. It was merry, out of place and uncanny, considering the heavy air that reeks of death and rotting flesh

Kuroyuri grins open, gleefully, down at Toshiro. "You're weird," the child said. Kuroyuri took in the image of the other blinking at him dumbstruck, unsure whether to be amazed or affronted. Before Toshiro could decide which, the commander stood. "I like it." And then, without warning, Kuroyuri jumped a leap of faith.

A rather frantic Toshiro went alert in alarm. He falters backward at the trust dive when Kuroyuri landed right into his arms. The warsfeil did not seem to care for the implications he brought forth other than pleased at the fact that Toshiro had caught him. Like a purring cat, Kuroyuri clung to the warm body beneath him. The teen already had him at expunging enemies.

It was awkward, and inappropriate, and Toshiro felt uncomfortable. Poor Toshiro struggled with his predicament. How to push a needy child, desperate was so wrong in the right sense of the word, without meaning to offend?

Kuroyuri felt Toshiro tensed. He guessed the other was stunned speechless at his, he admitted, strange behaviour. He felt Toshiro relaxed slightly at the last minute once he heaves a sigh. The older male was about to say something when Kuroyuri grabbed a handful of his uniform and tugged.

"_Don't you even dare say a word about this."_

Toshiro scoffs with a lilting grunt at the petty threat. "I would do nothing of the sort." Kuroyuri did not see his face, but Toshiro sounded positively offended.

And then pregnant silence happened before the lower broke the cadence.

"…You are cold." It would be an accusation if it were not for the concern laced in his voice. Toshiro attempted to get up, Kuroyuri none to make it easier at all. "As I said before, you will fall sick if we do not return to Ribidzile at once." He surrenders to the soft snow on his back when Kuroyuri did not let up one bit. The child was _trying._ "I would rather avoid such untoward situation before it is to become true."

Kuroyuri made an effort to consider it before finally deciding to dismount Toshiro. "Well… I _am_ cold," he said, all while a cheeky grin stretch across his puerile face at the thought of an interesting notion. Hands clasped behind his back, Toshiro busying himself with the snow on his form, Kuroyuri innocently announces; "I want to ride you."

* * *

><p>The famed church of Barsburg Empire in District Seven is known as a place of peace and protection, a sanctuary in layman's term. Not a place of violence.<p>

It was straight and plain simple. Respect the agreement, ye shalt not be punished nor shalt ye be unpardoned. Choose not to … Well. Let's just say if you do not want to give or receive scandal, follow whatever custom of the church you attend.

They should have played by their rules.

One by one enemy spies fell, lured away for the best interest of the church's holy image towards the public. Tarnishing it will be beyond repair. It was a bad mistake in their assessment, more than ever, to choose on attacking the church just when the yearly important Bishops Apprentice Examination is busily under way. They will not bow down to their aggressor.

Remember now, they forced their hands. And act the church act in defending their rights.

A dull thump onto the grassy surface was heard as the last of pretending church members were neutralized. The illusion of a garden soon fades to reveal a brick, bleak surrounding of an underground area. No light had probably ever shined its brilliance before in this secret network. Blood, whether freshly spilled or dried, splattered onto the floor like messy paint.

"It's unfortunate, isn't it? For them to be the insiders." Labrador watched silently his flowers laps the glistening, red liquid spotless. A faint memory crept at him. It has been too long. _Far too long._ "They were good people."

Without looking over his shoulder, Castor walked up to him. "I know," he said. The russet haired bishop played with his pliant threads before retracting their deadly claws back inside his hand. "But rules are rules. Mercy would only lead to fatal mistakes that should have been easily prevented from happening." Castor paused, considering. "Will this take a while?"

Long vines wrapped itself around lifeless limbs and bodies. They waited for the gardener's approval, to allow their contemplation to become true and devour the fleshy nutrients. All together eliminating the evidence a bloody nasty scene had ever taken place. It would be for the better, would it not?

Labrador petted his large Venus fly trap at his side, aware of his fellow clergyman's discomfort. "Not really." The vines dragged the human remains closer to it as the carnivorous plant licked its eager lips. There was not much of a choice for another alternative. Understanding, Labrador consents. "Let's meet up with Frau and Teito-kun," he proposed to Castor.

They did not stay long to watch nature carry out its twisted course.

Regrouping with Teito and Frau had not taken long, the two arriving moments later after them. Lance shortly after. There was not much time to lose. Teito have to escape before the military got a whiff of him. The brunet was clearly aware of that too.

"There are a thousand turns here," Labrador explained the awed boy. "If you make even one wrong turn, you won't be able to get out. So be careful. Today, I will create a guide for you." Labrador raised his gloved hand and gestured it forward. Flower petals surged as though they were breathed by a storm. They formed a seamless conduit. "Follow their path until you reach the end of the tunnel. Do not be tempted to stray. You'll know when you get there."

Labrador wished master and apprentice luck when Teito suddenly said, "Wait, Labrador-san. There's something I've been meaning to ask."

Labrador schooled a look of confusion upon his face. He had a grasp on what Teito intended to say, but the boy was not ready to hear it. It is not his place to divulge the truth, much less the others. He has to hear it from the young _Kind _himself. Yet, the bishop found himself encouraging the brunet either way.

Unsure on how to broach the topic Teito started with a hesitant voice. "Before you- Toshiro- He…" Struggling with his words Teito forced himself to stop knowing full well he was not making sense. Gnawing his bottom lip, Teito wills himself to look up at the older man.

The others too focused their attention upon the petite bishop. Clearly there was something he knew that they did not. They would understand, Labrador knew, but he chose not to share. This is personal. Labrador nods for Teito to continue.

"Just spill it already. Brat."

Castor smacked the quipping tall blond back to his place in Teito's stead, to which the latter will forever be thankful.

"When you said, it's from him. When I got this… this trinket." _The brooch._ "What do you- I mean. How do you… How do you know about Toshiro?"

Labrador watched the brunet for a moment. To lie is to sin, and to commit a sin will surely unpleased the Chief of Heaven. "I don't," he settled on saying then. Telling half the truth is not outrightly a lie per se. Labrador could tell his answer caused the brunet's mind to whirl on questions that he should not be asked. "But there is one thing for certain." That seemed to stop whatever protest that came about to mind.

"From the time you came to the church, Teito-kun, there has been a deep darkness within your heart. In your eyes there is someone that holds in hand a two-edged sword – to bring about the divine protection, or to bring about destruction. If you do not face the darkness, you will let yourself fall into ruin and become the latter."

In truth, what Labrador did was actually deliberate. By introducing the utmost importance he diverts away Teito's needless concern regarding his friend. His premonitions have always been accurate in every respect, in every sense of the word. But for the first time ever, Labrador is unsure what lies ahead in wait for those two souls when their paths converge.

"In this short time haven't you often crossed the Bridge of Tribulation?" Labrador said. "You have already decided to go on ahead, haven't you?"

Teito looked down for a brief second mulling over the other's words before facing forward. His eyes were filled with familiar determination. "I'm going to follow in the Father's steps," he decided solemnly, "and go to the 'Land of Seele.'" Labrador heaved an inward sigh at that, though unsettled despite knowing this forthcoming. "Thank you for looking after me until now." Teito bows his head in respect.

Bishop Lance approached Teito, the bowing brunet standing upright then. The ringlet fringed man leans down at the blinking boy and smiled. He handed Teito his Clergy Pass that reminded the boy of Father's. "A farewell gift, Teito Klein," Lance explained. He gave him the proof, proof that marked him as a bishop's apprentice. As Frau's apprentice.

Before Teito could express his sincere gratitude, sounds of heavy footsteps was heard. It was heading towards their direction.

"It looks like pursuers are coming," informs Castor. The string manipulator drew out his weaponized-strings as Lance and Labrador drew theirs. "Now go, please go on ahead. We will take care of them."

With that the hawkzile revved on to life. Frau stepped on the gas and sped through the secret passage of a thousand turns with Teito holding onto him tight from behind. Flowery petals and greenery life vines guide their way ensures the three bishops as they watched them disappear with the wind.

* * *

><p>In only five hours time, the Barsburg Imperial Army gained total control of all of Antwort. Ayanami was met with the entire force standing in salute at his arrival. Flags of Barsburg wafted by the wind stood erect with pride.<p>

Amongst them he did not see his wannabe begleiter awaits and greets his return. Why is he not that surprised?

The chief continued to pass rows upon rows of soldiers, ignoring faces he cared not to recognize nor acknowledge in favour of returning to the warm vicinity that of which Ribidzile grants. Anywhere that would shield him from the frosty wind and ice flakes battering his already cold body.

However, such indulgence would have to wait.

"Aaaya-tan~" a (unbearably) familiar voice calls out to him. "Souvenirs!"

_Oh. What joy._

The silver haired man considered the other's professed 'souvenirs'. Acquainted with Hyuuga's mischievous streak – almost on a daily basis – Ayanami choose the intelligent of options. He decides against it. His subordinate is sure to bring about problematic, ineffable nuisances: Nuisances that he will not allow or concern himself with.

Ayanami continued on his gait. None the faster, none the slower. Unlabored breath and heavy crunch of snow under similar boots he could pick up by hearing alone. The feeling of another following behind him was supposed to raise warning flags. But Ayanami learned to disregard it.

He had come to trust this man, had come to trust those that choose to follow him faithfully. Through thick and thin. No matter his decisions, no matter his choices. Until the damnest end of damn time. Allowing himself to appear protected by his subordinates, similar to knights and followers pledging their devotion and lives to protect their king and leader, was the least he could do.

Hyuuga easily caught up to him. "Look, look Aya~" he draws for attention. "These combat slaves are strong! It took a minute to catch them."

Between humouring his subordinate and dealing with his persistent pester, Ayanami rather went for the former. He looked over his shoulder once. _Battle-sklaves._ It was rare to see siblings, much less twins, young and very much alive, surviving in this world of day nowadays. They had potential. A pity he had no use for slaves.

Drawing out his sword, albeit receiving a look of alarm from Hyuuga, Ayanami cuts down the cuffs. "Your king is dead," he said bluntly to the freed twins, weapon sheathed. "Go wherever you like." He faced forward then without much afterthought and marched.

"Ehh?!" came the protesting whine. "What a waste! After the trouble of removing the collar… They have to be as strong as Teito Klein," Hyuuga tried to reason. "I don't think it would be a loss to take them with-"

_"You're strong! Rumours of the Black Hawks have reached even this country!"_

Ayanami halted to a stop at the interruption of a new voice. Not because of the foreignism of said words, but the lucid familiarity of it. Ayanami remembered not the last he heard the words spoken by anyone's tongue. Although the accent lean towards the northern part of the dialect than what he was used to, both hear and spoke, it was irrefutably of Raggs origin. Of Raggs language. Antwort was former Raggs' ally, after all.

The dark haired of the two siblings was rather animated. Cheeky voice boldly speaking out loud in an excited manner towards their capturer. He was courageous as well, unlike his twin. The light haired was timid and careful. He was visibly distressed at the other's outburst, desperately trying to stop him from voicing his thoughts known. Their audience were the Black Hawks, the ones who won their country in record time. Still, the louder one carries on full force.

_"Using ordinary zaiphon while fighting warsfeil-" _The brother to one lit aflame with admiration._ "The warsfeil absorbed everything with unstoppable power! Let me meet your king! I want that power too!"_

"I see, I see. You must be hungry, huh?"

Hyuuga smiles helplessly, patting what appears to be the older as the brothers engaged in their mother tongue. It was clear Hyuuga had not understood a word they were saying.

_"If you want to meet the king," _Ayanami told them in Raggs,_ "come by your own means." _

And then he was off. Only to be stopped by a single question, innocent and naïve and yet harming in the worst way possible.

_"Are you the king?"_

A mental memory flashed into his mind – of a distinct scene transpiring in that fleeting, blinking seconds painting his subconscious. It reopened an old wound and evokes the precious, the personal, of recollections. It was clear and vivid and-

Ayanami had to remind himself it was all in the past. He is in the present now. Focus on the present; Plan for the future. Yet, he longed to return to that exact moment. To this setting before everything collide and become things that had come to be.

If only he could reverse time. If only…

There was a man with hair black as ebony. A pair of dark eyes, warm and brilliant, that could soothe the aching of hearts, if he tried, though that was reserved for only one person he made sure, stared down in concentration. Thinly framed glasses sat on a pointy nose, which made the male appear older and mature, threatened to slip but thankfully stayed in its place. Distracted, aware of being watched (a welcomed distraction, actually), the man looked up and stares back. And he smiled.

That dark haired bespectacled man was Yukikaze. Forever his first and last begleiter.

They were alone in his office. Just the two of them. _He loved it when it was just the two of them. _Sorting paperwork, immersing their selves in the pleasant silence that reign in between. It was almost domestic. But then, he had to interrupt. Had had to ask; had had to know.

It ruined their cadence, of course, for Yukikaze stopped at once. Because Ayanami decided to ask his begleiter – whether Yukikaze regretted having him, whether it was a mistake to have him as his superior. Part of him was pleased, relieved even, at the other's reaction. Even though the simple question itself was mean and despicable and uncalled for.

Immediate fear and panic rushed onto his features as if warring against each other. A worrisome frown ultimately won and claimed its prize upon the dark haired man's bright and handsome face. Then he blinked. He must have noticed his concern, the deep sadness tinged behind his words and hidden ache behind his equally impassive eyes, for he laughed. Yukikaze laughed at his ridiculous notion.

**_"Whatever has been running through your head? You, sir, think too much." _**Yukikaze had teased after calming halfway down. **_"I would gladly follow Ayanami-sama anywhere, even to the ends of the earth!" _**he averred; **_"Because I follow the king. My King. And that king…"_**

Time seemed to stop at that moment. Filled with anticipation, filled with dread. It was flattering altogether that the other declared his assertion, his unbreakable vow – and Ayanami truly believed such extravagance – to him that sealed the deal. He did not for a second doubt the other's genuineness, but he had other reasons for concern.

Yet, for all that agitation, every troubling thought seemed to wash away when Yukikaze stared at Ayanami. Gazed deep into his superior with great intensity.

There was no need for physical contact. No more close propinquity, no more acts or touch of reassurance. Eyes was enough, utterly and intimately so.

Yukikaze tenderly smiled at him. Admiration and respect was apparent, his reverent adoration for his Ayanami-sama true and real and sincere. Softly and gently, yet with steady purpose, he said his piece.

**_"My only King is you, Ayanami-sama."_**

_'Oh, snow.'_

For a moment, the Chief of Staff seemed to have frozen in place. Perhaps he had not understood the question. Perhaps he had not heard it at all. Or perhaps he had not understood the language than the gibberish had been said. It was proven to be untrue when the man resumed his march, as if the pause he intended was deliberate.

_"I am not a King,"_ Ayanami replied in fluency and walked away.

Hyuuga tilted his head ever so slightly sneaking side glances at him. Just enough to let Ayanami know, albeit his inability to understand the spoken language, that he knew. Understood what,_ who_, was occupying his mind which had easily robbed his staunch attention and made him… distracted.

Still, Ayanami did not turn to correct him nor would he deny it. In a way, it was probably true.

After he had come all this way, he would not stop. Just as the snow that continues to fall over them and piles up in amount. Just as the lingering memories amassing into one heap bundle of haunting regrets, what-ifs, and pain. He will move forward and advance.

_'You are not certain to be in this world. You make me recall my birthplace.'_

* * *

><p>Toshiro could have sworn he heard his joints went snap, popping in places that shouldn't <em>pop<em>. He could not, tried as he might, muffle a groan from escaping as he stretches. Why did he even agree on doing it? He was too old for giving piggyback rides.

"…Are you okay?" was asked in concern.

He turned to see Konatsu setting a plate of mugs and cups poured with steaming hot cocoa and tea on the table. Toshiro look signs for Kuroyuri in the area only to find that the child warsfeil was gone. He probably disappears to pay Haruse a visit again.

"I am fine," Toshiro replied. He smoothes down his uniform with his hands before properly addressing Konatsu. "Thank you for preparing much needed drinks. I should bring a mug to Kuroyuri-sama."

"Kuroyuri-sama has been through a lot. This is his first mission without Haruse-san. I think we should leave the commander be for a while. And besides," Konatsu scratches his cheek, slightly embarrassed, "I don't know if it'll taste alright. Katsuragi-san's usually the one who prepares this sort of things. But I'm confident I won't ruin the flavour entirely."

Toshiro took a seat across from Konatsu, at once understanding the other's insinuation. "That is quite optimistic of you," he said. "Trials and errors are common; I had quite a few of my own. Tea, for example." Toshiro reaches out for one of the cups among mugs. "If anything, I would like to think that a little too much sugar in my cup is better than the plain bitterness left on my tongue."

"That's… Wait. That makes sense, actually." Konatsu let out a small laugh and shares a smile. "You don't have to say it like that. I'm sure you'll change your mind the moment you tried a taste. But thanks anyway."

Toshiro studied the begleiter as he drank. Despite his demeanour, Konatsu seemed to be a little bit distracted.

The begleiter was the first Hawk to return when Toshiro and Kuroyuri boarded Ribidzile. He was alone at that time. Sat on a chair and staring into space; no Shuri on sight. Toshiro dares not interrupt – he seemed occupied in a world of his own. The other eventually came back to his senses at the sight of him none too happily carrying an elated Kuroyuri.

"I used to ride my brother when I was small. Almost... persistently." Toshiro froze and inwardly cringed at his divulging. Had no idea why he was blurting this to the other, but the words flow out surprisingly easy. An unspoken mellowness even. "It was exhilarating to be as if you are on top of the world. Now I understood how he must have felt back then."

"It sounds like you're close with family."

Toshiro gave a non-committal smile at the remark. "I suppose it does," Toshiro said wryly.

They said no more, Konatsu not one to be wholly inconsiderate to read the situation.

The silence went on.

Toshiro lifted the fragile teacup to his lips, inhaling the mild aroma of what he guessed a blend of apple and cinnamon, and sipped his tea. He placed down his cup. "May I be the first to apologize for Shuri-kun?" suddenly he began.

Konatsu raised a questioning eyebrow with a simple "Why?"

"He may be a pompous, self know-it-all and thinks himself as this superior kind–" Toshiro raised a hand. "Mind you, I am not saying this in his regard. But all things considered, he is not ready to face our reality."

And yes, the Oak cried himself to sleep. Unbelievably so. Konatsu had to carry the blond all the way to Ribidzile and patch his wound. That was partly Konatsu's fault, the begleiter himself professed, for punching the day lights out of the Oak. Shuri had mocked the dead, and Toshiro found himself applauding for the begleiter's decisive reprisal.

"He must have been frightened, for I was too. Though there is no excuse in the world for him to be deadweight."

Toshiro is not one to resort to violence, unless provoked. He would much preferably use zaiphon than some other form of weapon. But then enemy soldiers had had to gang up on him.

The cadet fought back when they attacked. The enemies rushed at him reckless – either they were inexperience or too riled up in panic to care – closer and closer, too close for comfort. It limited his openings for range attacks. Toshiro had no choice but to slice through fleshes and limbs in his defense. Temporal incapacitation was the idea. He never intended to kill, merely impeded their movements. Made sure the wounds were not as fatal and avoid the permanent, major nerves.

Mercy could get himself killed, he knew. The very act of killing itself is difficult to grasp as well. Yet, taking someone's life seemed easy. Watching Kuroyuri's demonstrations did a number on him.

There was no means to fight against warsfeil except through executions by the church. And Antwort, made vulnerable after years of successive resistance against other power and little to trifling attempts at threats, thought no further for such scenarios to occur then and in the near future. But now… Now is too late for regrets. Even if one per se could use power to match that of warsfeil, one would still be consumed by his or her own darkness and die.

It was basically a suicide mission.

With a flick of the hand, soldiers liberated purple-black streams of wars through openings of eye sockets, mouths and noses. Bodies dropped to the ground drained without life. There were weak movements, twitches for a second, and then nothing. _Silence._ Only the feel of pure, raw adrenaline coursing through your veins in blood vessels pumping the beating of your heart and the sounds of heavy panting and shortage of oxygen in your body.

It was surreal. He could have been one with those people whom have lain in the snow. He could have been killed if it were not for his affiliation with the warsfeil. The only anchor that broke the spell is that he is alive and breathing and standing.

A little voice whispered it was not right, whispered that he should be ashamed at the inappropriate feeling he intentionally revelled in. He should stop, surrender if needed be: _He could stop this._ But this was a mission. It was him or they. And Toshiro, he will not go out of his way if it meant it would jeopardize the mission.

"I don't like that Oak, I'll tell you that much." Konatsu sets down his mug after a few swallow. "It's bad enough that we have one idiot in this ship; I don't plan on putting up with another. If you know what I mean."

"Of course."

The teenagers engage in small talks afterwards, Toshiro mostly asking about the Black Hawks and their nature to the part of Hyuuga's tendencies to omit some particulars. The major is quite crafty, after all. The begleiter laughs but did not attempt to deny his allegation. What usually comes out from the major probably means nothing, he assures. Konatsu personally knew his superior. And he argues no further, believing in the other's word rather than the person himself.

Toshiro finished his tea in time to hear the sounds of boots marching up the stairs. He stood up following Konatsu's cue, their chairs scraping back simultaneously. All of his attention seemed to be centred on one person when their owners fully entered the platform. That person noticed his stare.

"Welcome back, Ayanami-sama," Toshiro greeted respectfully.

He thought he saw but a flash of a soft glint in the chief of staff's eyes, but Ayanami's face was completely emotionless. Worry was starting to invade his thoughts; had he went out of his way thinking that he has been accepted in the eyes of this influential man? He could not read him, not even a sliver fragment. As if he is a blank page so sacred to even be tarnished by atrocious writings. It infuriates him, yet fascinates him all together. He wants to break him, little by little beyond raised walls, and see. If he let him.

But then Hyuuga choose that exact moment to ruin it.

"Shiro-chan~" Hyuuga called out too giddily. "What about me? Won't you welcome me back too?"

Toshiro twitched but smoothes the annoyance out before it had the chance appear. "No," he said bluntly. His stern face dissolves to surprise when he turned to meet two new faces. "Who are they? Are they survivors?"

"Yup and nope," Hyuuga replied half-heartedly. "Don't know their names, but these two will be joining us!"

Konatsu proceed on chiding his defiant child of a superior. It reminded Toshiro the time he first met the group officially. A somewhat tedious exchange he rather not hears nor re-lives. The chief of staff was nowhere to be seen however when he searches for his silhouette. Perhaps he had decided on a tactical retreat to his quarters.

On the other hand, Toshiro had never once seen the man worn out. It is possible. Yet, it is difficult to imagine an at least tired version of the strong-willed and indifferent Hawk leader to appear in such a state. The silver haired was too perfect to even have flaws.

Apparently recruits, Toshiro properly took in their appearance with curiosity. They were identical to one another, twins no doubt, with contradicting personalities judging from their attitudes. The two seemed to be around his age or so.

_"Oh-ho! So this is the Black Hawks we've been hearing so much about, huh?"_

_"Suzu, stop it! Let's behave before we get ourselves into trouble."_

Hyuuga noticed Toshiro with the twins. He grabbed the chance to divert Konatsu's scolding at them. "Don't worry, they won't bite!" It was deliberate and the begleiter took the bait.

"What are they saying?" Konatsu asked, interested. Hyuuga shrugged his shoulders in response.

"No idea. I don't speak Raggs and Aya-tan's already bailed out on me. He won't help me translate!"

"Uh-huh. I'm assuming this is your great of an idea to bring these two along then?"

Toshiro ignored the two Hawks, albeit missing the opportunity to witness the begleiter hitting his superior, which the latter rightly deserves, in favour of the twins. He followed the newcomers as they made their way towards the terminals.

He wondered who the twins were. They are survivors and yet they are not. Hyuuga's answer confuses him.

When it comes to the aftermaths of war, survivors are rare. Even if they live, they could not survive on their own. Unless some saint of a soul came to their help. And the Black Hawks or the military are not those people.

It is possible that they were held hostage, but Toshiro doubted Antwort would imprison their people. If there is no reason to, of course. Their clothing however was similar to that of Antwort's forces – hired men perhaps? Be that as it may, they would still be killed on sight. The fact that they were brought back by the Black Hawks, spared and indubitably_ here_, Toshiro had to be wary.

_"Stop," _started Toshiro in perfect northern dialect. _"I would advise you not to touch that."_

The siblings from Antwort spun around, clearly caught red-handed at their soon-to-be dangerous prying. _"Sorry-" _the dark haired, the instigator, began,. "_Hey. You can understand us! Yuki, he understands us!"_

The light haired appears to share his brother's excitement. _"Yes, Suzu, I heard him. Are you from Antwort too?" _he said this to Toshiro. _"Your accent sounds a lot like ours."_

Toshiro considered how much information he would be willing to divulge. _"It has been a while," _he admitted as he settles on the half truth, _"but yes. I speak Raggs. However, my hometown is not that of Antwort. I came from the Sixth District."_

_"That's a long way from home, isn't it?" _the older sibling remarked. _"Anyways, it's good to have someone whom we could talk to that actually understands us. There's that other man too, but he's not much of a talker."_

"Well, well. Would you look at that; Shiro-chan could speak Raggs too! Hey, Konatsu, look-"

Toshiro blatantly ignores Hyuuga completely. _"Are you referring to Ayanami-sama?" _he proffered.

_"So that's his name! This Ayanami-sama seems to be strong! That shady guy sure is too." _A finger was pointed at Hyuuga._ "He even removed our collars, see. Thanks to him! Can you tell him we're thankful? A lot?"_

Hyuuga points at himself. "Me? What about me? What's he saying?" he asks excitedly. "I don't know what you three are talking about, but I'm pretty sure he's saying bad things about me! I think. Tell them I'm cool and super, _super_, nice, Shiro!"

_"Do not let his silly acts and hearty smiles fool you. That man is dangerous," _Toshiro warns in a conspiring manner. The light haired was evidently worried. His warning on the other unfortunately had an opposite effect than he planned on inspiring: He was eager to fight Hyuuga. _"You mentioned about a collar?" _Toshiro resumed. _"By collar… You mean…"_

_"We are battle sklaves." _Toshiro was surprised to be answered by the younger twin. It was drawled and he seemed ashamed, sad even, about it. And it lowered his defences around them. "_Does that… Does that bother you?"_

Toshiro shook his head. _"The life of a sklave is not an easy life, I imagine. Even more so for those trained specifically for combat, yes?" _he said._ "What is a sklave's worth if there is no master to own them? There is no value. None. But when you are freed, when those horrible collars on your neck and tight flesh-digging shackles that bounds you are removed, you are free. And it ends then. That is when you have your value back. Your value as human beings that has a will and dreams."_

The former battle sklaves tilted their heads. _"You are free, both of you. I should never have asked that."_ Toshiro gave an apologetic smile in return. _"Are you planning on joining the military?"_

_"If it procures me power like theirs, then yes! Are you strong too? I'm Suzu!" _the older gestured at himself. _"And this is Yuki!"_

_"Toshiro,"_he introduced modestly. "_However, I am not strong as you might think I am."_

_"Why's that?" __Yuki asked. __"You're Black Hawks. Aren't you?"_

Toshiro was about to answer but stopped himself. He would have disagreed, dismiss it by telling them he is not part of the Black Hawks, if it were not for his constant involvement with these people. He has lived his life evaluating claims and ideas based upon reason and logic and judged how they correlate with reality in answering the unknown. With facts and undeniable evidence served on a silver platter, Toshiro should be able to answer this.

…And yet, he did not.

_"Come now. Sit with us at the table."_


End file.
